


Goodbye

by NyannyCat_13



Series: Skeleton Songs [1]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: But you won't get bored, Chara Is Not Evil, Depressed Sans, Ditto for Chara, Frisk almost dies, Frisk is female but prefers they, Frisk went insane for just a bit, Grillby can speak, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I love sad, I'm horrible at tragic shit, Monsters have been above surface for six years, Multi, Reader Is Not Frisk, Reader doesn't emote, Reader has a specific appearance, Reader has four true friends, Reader has so many jobs, Reader has the worst friends in the history of friends, Reader has tragic shit for days. DAYS., Reader sleeps once a month because she feels like it, Reader went insane for just a bit, She's just a cinnimon who ate buttercups to save monsterkind, So much background, Stalker Sans, This will end me, Titles have nothing to do with actual chapters, You ain't seen nothin' yet, You've heard the slow relationship in other sans x reader?, i cant write, reader is female, there's violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-23
Updated: 2017-06-02
Packaged: 2018-07-16 22:08:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 21
Words: 17,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7286524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NyannyCat_13/pseuds/NyannyCat_13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been ten years. You're ten years older. You really wish you weren't. But you deal with it. You heal, you work, you hide and try to get enough money to leave, even though you know they will come wherever you go.</p><p>Then one day, six years after monsters come up to surface, you work at Grillby's like you're supposed to. </p><p>You didn't know that something so small would butterfly effect into something so big. Because a depressed skeleton you serve there doesn't seem to know where he should stay. He doesn't stay away from you. And he, along with everyone else, learns things about you that only some people expected. And by some I mean a lot.</p><p> </p><p>Titles are based off of Hatsune Miku's "Goodbye" created by VocaCircus right here --> https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=AH5_sKwDw1E</p><p>Story is a redo of NEVERTALE to those who kudos'ed it (thank you <3)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. When I was a girl

**Author's Note:**

> Ten years ago:

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Big bundle of plot part zero!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Mellow! So I have a LOT to say. First, those who read NEVERTALE, this IS based off of it, but almost everything has changed. It's still Sans/Reader, and you still have shitty friends, but that's pretty much it. ALSO. I decided how You, the reader, looks! And you are a she when it is Sans's pov. Sorry. But!!! I AM THE WRITER!!! SO THERE!!!
> 
> Second, YES!!! I have a background! But the only plot so far is: make reader smile without her being drunk. That's it. But it WILL still be interesting. Also even more: you know how most sans/reader's have relationship first, then plot, or plot within relationship? (By plot I mean story) I have my single plot first, and a slow relationship during that. And the single plot will take quite a long time. I don't think that if you're emotionless for ten years, or for your entire life like other sans/reader's, you won't unravel within a month. Just saying. Anyway, that's it. Soda later!

"___!"

Her voice rang out with worry. Worry and fear. You knew she was running towards you. You knew YOU were walking towards a cliff. That was pretty much all that was in your head at the moment.

You were walking right towards the cliff of Mt. Ebott. Unknowingly, if you fell down, all of history would change. Either you would fall and, without the power to reset, would die fairly quickly, succumb to your already broken side and kill everything in your path, or replace Frisk and break the barrier. And either Frisk would be the eighth to fall, or would never come to the spotlight.

Fortunately to all of mankind and unfortunately to you, she caught up.

Jumping to wrap her arms around your chest, she grabbed you from behind and pulled you backward as you reached the end. You fell on top of her, and was quick to try to escape her grasp. However, she kept one hand in a deathgrip (literally) on your wrist. She pulled herself up and stared at you.

Your hair, usually a bunch of rare coppery gold curls that many people tried to mimic through dye, was greasy, wild and almost straight. Your skin was strangely pale, and your normally tight clothes were baggy. Your hands were broken and bloody, and she could see that your chest was covered in red cuts that ran up to the base of your neck. Your glasses were smudged and slightly cracked, and there were large, dark bags under your eyes. Your once bright hazel eyes had gone glassy, like you were already dead. You stared at her blankly, your cracked lips refusing to move from the empty frown that your face naturally kept.

"___, please, PLEASE at least speak to me! PLEASE! I need you to realize that-that, that it wasn't your fault!" Through your broken mind, you could see tears forming from here still-clear eyes. You didn't speak. You didn't move or try to break from her grasp. You just stood there, standing, staring down into nothing. You didn't cry. She continued speaking, her words tripping over themselves. "No-o! It-it was-n't your f-fault! Plea-ease just l-liste-"

You interrupted her with your scratchy, monotone voice. "He was out of his seat. I asked asked my mother if I could have him out of his seat, and she said yes. He was out his seat. Not properly buckled in. It was my fault."

"No it-it wasn't! Yo-ou did-n't ask for-r the per-person to start t-texting!"

"Yet he died because I took him out of his seat to play a game. A GAME. I killed him for A FUCKING GAME."

She started desperately pulling you away from the cliff, quietly whimpering out apologies and persuasions. You didn't fight, you just allowed yourself to be taken away.

No.

This can't happen.

You have to die.

You quickly yanked your arm out of her grasp and began sprinting to the cliff. You heard her behind you. You reached the edge and jumped.

You felt your foot get caught onto something, causing you to fumble in the air. You landed hard on the side of the cliff, knocking out whatever breath you had held in. And for some reason, you couldn't breathe after that. You felt yourself being pulled up and carried away by the now fully-sobbing girl. Before you lost consciousness due to lack of air, you faintly heard her say between sobs:

"I'm so-o sor-ry . . . ___"


	2. I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We interrupt you this stiry with: the average life of ___: weekdays!

Ten years later:

You decided to look and the Snorlax alarm clock. You didn't know why you even had it, since you rarely slept. As in, maybe you slept once a month. It's just that A. You were too busy for sleep (not really, but it was your excuse), B. You were able to last this long because of some . . . reasons of yours, and C. Screw sleep in general. 

The clock said 6:56. Your school began at eight, and was currently the latest-starting public school you've seen. And you've seen about five schools in your lifetime: Elementary, Junior, High, college, and now vet school. Right then, you had three years left. You had been in vet school for two years up until then. You originally would have had two years left, but since monsters had come up six freaking years ago, another full year dedicated to the sole purpose of learning some monster/animal(?) Sciency crap like souls and health bars and all that shit was added.

After a large sigh, you got ready. Getting ready consisted of:  
-putting on fairly clean clothes  
-eating breakfast, which was macaroni and cheese  
-brushing teeth  
-fuck makeup, you hated the stuff and never wore it, unless for costume purposes  
-fuck showering, that could wait until after you dissected hopefully-dead puppies and kittens of all sizes  
-get whatever you needed for vet school  
-transportation . . . Shit.

You missed the bus. You were going to have to run. This happened a lot. Having a bus that picks you up at seven is never good for the times you got lost in the drawings you created and sold. You stuffed the pencils and pens into your BoVS (Bag of Vet Shit), threw on your coat and Espeon hat, clipped your pokewalker onto your jeans, and raced out the door. After running down a couple flights of stairs, you practically threw yourself out of the apartment building, then sprinted to the school. Luckily, it was only two miles away from where you lived.

* * *

After five hours of dissecting and learning, you pit-stopped at home to throw aside your homework for the night. You then took your shower, changed, and scurried to your 3:30 shift as a secretary at a hospital. This job was often extremely boring, so you brought a small notebook with you to doodle Pokemon and create some of your own. If no one had noticed yet, you had a major obsession with Pokemon. That job that day, you ended up helping the majority of twenty people. Busy. You also drew a Darkrai and a Yvetal.

Another pit stop at home let you change your clothes into the uniform for your 7 o'clock at Grillby's. A few people taunted you as you went to your next job. Nothing bad, just some people wondering where your mustache was and if you could sing for them. You ignored them. You could easily ignore everyone/thing you met, and often did. Pairing this with your amazing ability of not emoting in ten and a half years, the world was usually dead to you.

You walked into the warm bar, your glasses immediately fogging due to the heat inside. It was getting pretty cold for the end of July. Grillby waved before you heard a little bell ding, warning you of incoming food. You mentally sighed, though despite your internal complaints, you made sure to get an extra hour into your monster jobs. You liked monsters.

The bell rang for a few meals, mainly beer. Monster beer. You reminded yourself (again . . .) to maybe try some later. After a while of sending out dishes, the last thing on your plate for THAT rush was a burger. Just the smell made your mouth water and your stomach growl. You found the victim to this tasty massacre . . .

And he did very much look dead.

His head was in his arms, the blue hoodie of his covering his face. He was slumped on the countertop, where there was quite a few ketchup bottles, though only one of them had been touched. You cleared your throat. As he looked up, his hood fell off. 

. . . Well, you were right on the dead part. He was a very short, very depressed-looking skeleton.

The first thing your eyes went to was the dark color underneath his eyesockets, warning everyone that he didn't get much sleep. He seemed to be fighting the permanent smile, forcing it into a frown. His face and sleeves were covered in glowing blue tears. You knew this person was Sans, and was a regular in the six years that you had been working in this place. You had never served him anything before, though, as he was also Grillby's favorite, and the fire elemental always served him first. But Grillby was busy ordering for a pack of dogs. So it was up to you.

"Here's your burger." Was all you said before you set the food in front of him and went for the next meal to be served. You did notice that Sans was a little bit more depressed than normal. Sure, he was always somewhat depressed, you could see right though his mask of smiles and jokes. But something was up. Maybe you'd ask him if you served him again, or weren't too annoyed by his mask. You figured Grillby would probably get to him forever after, or else option two would come up.

Seeing that the rest of this meal was beer for the dogs, you turned around and caught a glimpse of the skeleton before every bit of your attention was forced onto balancing the drinks. He seemed a bit surprised at how uncaring you were, and had struck up a conversation with only his number one fan. After you did probably the worst thing to yourself and the dogs by giving them the alcohol, you saw he was gone.

You didn't care. You didn't care about anyone. You finished your job, and walked home at midnight to spend the rest of the eight hours you had doing homework, drawing, grocery shopping, or maybe eating your second meal of the day. Anything but sleep. That was for people who weren't you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Mellow I . . . Cant's see shit. My parents caught me with my tablet at 11:00 at night, which was truely early for me (midnght at least, but my parents still force me into bed at 9), so of course I do the exact same thing tonight! But I took off my glasses (yes I have glasses, needed them since I was around four) so I could hide more quickly. But I can't see. So sorry for mistypes, even though I wrote this a while ago . . . 
> 
> (P.s.you know how I said ___ doesn't laugh or smile? I meant emote. She thinks with emotions sometimes, and she's more emotional [or sartastic] to her friends, but her face is stuck. Period. Not a smile or a tear. Also! I may not have plot, but I do have background for dayz!)
> 
> Next chapter: the average life of Sans: part one!


	3. Was told that the world wasn't my story

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Specific Day of Sans: Sadness!
> 
> And,
> 
> Big Bundle Of Plot Part One:

I woke up around ten to the sound of my brother pretending to be a battering ram. No, scratch that, I was already awake around ten to the sound of my brother pretending to be a battering ram. I woke up probably around four, sweating and crying silently from yet another nightmare. This time about what Frisk did.

What Frisk did . . .

"Uh, Paps?" I called, confirming my existence to my brother and preventing my door from being bashed down. Good. A clean freak like him shouldn't be seeing this dump that was my life. "What's the date?"

"I BELIEVE IT IS THE TWENTY-SEVENTH OF AUGUST, BROTHER. NOW FOR MORE IMPORTANT BUSINESS . . ." Papyrus began rambling about breakfast spaghetti through the door.

Of course.

How could I forget?

Today was the day. It was kind of the anniversary of us monsters randomly popping up onto the surface. And then, a year later, Frisk . . .

They wanted to stop the RESETS. Stop the SAVES. Stop the LOADS. Stop everything. So . . . They tried again.

They tried to fall again. They tried to die again.

They were found almost immediately. Some of the Ruin's people were still living down underground, and a Whinsum had found them. 1 HP out of 20. The Whimsum had ran, screaming and crying, to the others, where they called Tori. They got to heal the kid, but they went a little crazy. Muttering about how they had to go . . . That they needed to make it stop . . . To get Chara out of their head . . . To leave the world the way ___ wanted to go . . . Why didn't it work the first time . . .

I always wondered who ___ was. When I asked Frisk about it afterwards (when they were better), they didn't want to say anything. I decided I'd ask them later. Maybe theywouldn't be so reluctant to speak this time.

" . . . AND BROTHER ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING TO ME."

Oh yeah, I wasn't living in the past. I opened the door slightly, then changed my mind, and locked it.

"SANS!" Was the partly muffled, partly clear complaint as I threw on a somewhat clean shirt and teleported behind Paps. I left him banging on my door while I tried to find the quietest way to leave. But then I realised that my dearest brother would probably obliterate my door within five minutes. 

"Hey, Paps," I started, causing him to jump with a small Nyeh, " when is a door not a door?"

He turned slowly to stare at me, with a scowl on his face that almost made me crack up right then and there. "BROTHER NO."

"When . . ."

"BROTHER PLEASE NO."

". . . It's . . ." I inched closer.

"PLEASE STOP. DO NOT RUIN THIS MORNING FOR ME."

" . . . a . . ." I continued, my grin so wide I was surprised it was still on my face.

"IF YOU CONTINUE, I WILL HARM YOU."

" . . . Jar." I whispered.

He screamed and started shouting at me. I ran from him, savoring the response. Leave it to Paps to overeact about my puns. He must have no funny bone.

Grabbing my favorite faded blue jacket with white faux fur, I turned and said "Got to go, skelebro," before running out the door with a screaming sibling at my tail. Life is ruff, I thought.

* * *

 

I convinced Alphys to let me have the day off, as long as she could text me if she needed an extra set of hands, which I would happily give to her. Instead, I let my new and improved hot dog stand (there was a sign) open for almost the whole day. My hot dog stand was getting a bit more popularity. Sure, the adults didn't want to be served by a skeleton, but the kids didn't give two shits about what I was. They thought I was cool, plus they got hot dogs.

The best part about life was that mankind was getting used to us. I thought of so long ago, about five or six years ago. We spent the first month basically camping, as the place we came out of (we later found out it was a place called Texas) completely refused our existence. I remember how so many monsters were terrified of the surface; they were having second thoughts and remembering the war. Luckily, I wasn't around during it. But I DID remember the people whom fell down here. Seven total, including Frisk, but only four were actually children.

I noticed I had some kid in the line, who was waiting impatiently for my arrival back to Earth. I smiled, hiding my annoyance, and stacked some hot cats on the kiddo's head. That seemed to make them happy, though I saw their dad making a face. Maybe I should host a hot dog-balancing contest next Saturday. That'd be fun.

As the kid left, I realised my shift was over. I pocketed the money and went to Grillby's within a minute. I went to my usual spot, and Grillby came over immediately.

"The usual?" He asked, adjusting his glasses.

I knew just one ketchup bottle wouldn't get me through the night. "How about a couple more of the usual," then I thought a bit more and added, "and a burger."

He sped off to place the order serve others. I sighed. I knew ketchup wasn't alcoholic. But it made me feel better, at least sometimes. Plus, no hangover!

I sighed again as the ketchup was served. Why was I thinking of things like this? I thought of Frisk as I tipped a bottle into my mouth and drank the substance. Why? Just . . . Who? Where? Why? So many questions that began with those words.

Why did they feel the need? Did we do something wrong? Who's ___? What happened to her? Did she die? Why was she Frisk's suicidal role model? Where did Frisk's determination go?

. . . Why did Frisk survive with such low determination?

Those questions, the questions that had been tumbling around inside my head for nearly five years, five years of hiding, fell out right in front of me.

I set aside the bottle, buried my head into the sleeves of my coat, and cried.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Mellow! Also, FUCK EVERYTHING! I hate not having Internet! All the stuff I wrote before (how I can't pun [ajar . . . a jar . . . get it?], yes Frisk almost died but plot let her survive, yes Frisk is a girl and okay with being a girl, how I can't write, I forget the rest) was ERASED.
> 
> I've finished chapter eight currently, and forced in some shitty other thing that reader can't get her nose out of. So deal with some side plot I've randomly made up. It will not get in the way of true Sans/reader, but it lets a week go by without passing by TOO quickly.
> 
> Soda later!


	4. All the tears I will cry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Big ball of plot part 2(?) And how to forcefully stop a skeleton from crying.

The sound of someone clearing their throat stopped me from being in my state of depression. I looked up, knowing that I looked like I was in a car crash. I turned to stare at the waitress.

Her outfit was exactly the same as Grillby's except for a red beanie hat. Damp, curly copper hair swirled gently down to her shoulders, aside from from a shortened section that reached over her right eye to her chin. Black wire glasses rimmed glassy, green-grey hazel eyes that stared at me coldly. In her hands was a plate. She set the plate down in front of me.

"Here's your burger," she said curtly. Then she turned tail and left to get beer for the pack of dogs that entered quickly. I stared after her, my thoughts distracted. She didn't seem angry or sad, or emotional whatsoever. She just seemed . . . Neutral.

Of course, I had seen her almost every time I went to Grillby's, since the first day Grillby's was up and running. She had never served me in those six years until today. I had also seen her a few times in Muffet's, as well. I wondered how someone could be so emotionless, or how a human could have 2 monster jobs so quickly.

"Sans, you alright?" The sound of Grillby's "voice" startled me. I had forgotten how much of a mess I looked.

"Yeahimfinebythewayiveforgottenthatspecificwaitressesnamecouldyoutellmeit?" 

The elemental "chuckled", which actually sounded more like crackling then it did laughing. "Could I get that in English please?"

"Picky, picky. I said I was fine." I grumbled.

He "stared" at me questioningly. "What about the rest?"

I sighed, surrendering, "I ALSO asked if you knew who THAT lady's name was." I pointed towards the waitress, who had glanced over, struggling to carry about five or six mugs of the doggy demise that would happen tomorrow. Seriously, dogs do NOT know where the line ended AT ALL.

It only took a "glance" for the living fireplace to answer. "Oh, that's ___."

I felt all color (or, lack of it) run from my face. That's ___?!? THAT'S ___?!?!? I really wondered what the living fuck happened to this person to make her like . . . That.

"I-I gotta go. Put it on my tab." I stammered, then teleported back home just as she turned to glance again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't write. I know this one is short. I'm very tired. That is all. I may go now. Also. I think (since I'm kind of ahead of the sad, sad story chapter-wise) I'm gonna try posting a new chapter every Sunday . . . ? Probably? Eeeh? I'll try, that's for sure.
> 
> *I MEANT FRIDAY. SLEEP DEPRIVATION IS NOT HELPING MY MEMORY.


	5. Wouldn't even make up a sea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Unneeded filler for random thing #1  
> Reader has an actual friend #1  
> Big ball of plot #???  
> Horrible cliffhanger #1  
> SO MAMY NUMBER ONESSSSSS  
> Bonus: Grillby now has a random personality except for the pure reason of filler!

It was Saturday, and you were wondering why Muffet hadn't changed your outfit yet. It looked like a mix between Twilight Sparkle's and Rarity's outfits, and you didn't care for it all that much. You slumped onto your fist, leaning onto your right hand as you drew with your left. You were doodling the pastries you could see through the glass counter when you heard the bell, signaling that a customer entered.

You hoped it wasn't Sans. He had been at Grillby's every day for the past two weeks, and had forced Grillby to make you always serve him. And he kept. On. Trying. To make. Conversations! So many conversations! Sometimes it was talking about his friends and brother. Sometimes it was asking you questions. Sometimes it was puns. Sometimes it was even flirting! You responded to nothing. Only the bare minimum. "Here's your burger," or "Here's your ketchup." Nothing else. You never even laughed. If Sans knew other places where you worked, you wouldn't be able to bare it!

You looked at your watch. 9:49. Just enough time for one last customer. You adjusted your lavender beanie hat, hoped it wasn't Sans one more time, and looked up to see a woman your age enter the bakery. She had brown horse-hair she let grow to her waist. A big white headband failed to hold back her bangs, which stayed nicely trimmed above two cute brown eyes. She dressed casually, a shirt that had her favorite Marvel ship: Loki x breakfast foods. You internally laughed at that as your true friend entered.

"Carrie! How are you?" You asked, a subconcious glimmer in your eyes.

"___! It's been so long!" Carrie brightened as she saw you.

The two of you chatted, catching up. Life was somewhat good for both of you. You learned she had become an artist like she always wanted to be, and she was a big monster supporter.

You sighed at that, the glimmer gone. "It's not like anti-monster groups will ever end, will it?" You asked glumly.

She sighed, too. "You'd think people would stop after six fucking years, right?" Was her angry reply. She glared at some spiders, who had been listening into your conversation. They quickly scurried away. "They're here. Okay. So what? They've shown for years, YEARS, that they are perfectly harmless! I know a few people. I know a few people. And guess what? They're either dating or ARE MARRIED TO MONSTERS. And guess what? THEY'RE HUMAN. Some even have CHILDREN! BIG WHOOP! MARRIAGE! WHO FUCKING CARES!? THEY LET SAME-SEX MARRIAGE HAPPEN. WHY SHOULD EVERY-FUCKING-ONE GET THEIR PANTIES IN A FUCKING BEAR TRAP BECAUSE SOME GUYS DON'T CARE WHAT FORM THEIR LOVE OF THEIR LIFE TAKES!?!"

You were taken back by the outburst from the woman in front of you. The last time you saw Carrie, she refused to cuss in public, and look at her now! You thought for a little more than three seconds before responding.

"You know how it is. Did the Jews get a break after six years? Did the Chinese? Did the blacks? I'm actually surprised there isn't another human-monster war yet. Anyway, you aren't speaking out of experience, are you?"

You watched as Carrie's face blushed, confirming your question. "Maybe . . ." She mumbled

You slammed both hands onto the countertop, attracting the attention of the terrified spiders. "WHO?" You demanded.

She whined "Why?" for a few minutes, obviously trying to annoy you. Finally, she sighed, admitting defeat. 

Please don't say Aaron, please don't say Aaron, do NOT say Aaron, Aaron is an asshole, plea-

" . . . Grillby."

What?

"What?"

She smiled and nodded. "Grillby. He's amazing. A good friend of mine, and I know so much about him. I even know how to have full conversations with him. I could go on and on about him. He's smart, a good chef, he's a TOTAL geek. He has a good sense of humor, which he won't tell me where he got most of the jokes from. He's so nice to be around. He's helped me through some bad times, and I through some of his. And I think he has a crush on me too."

This took you back. You asked the first thing that came to mind. "Grillby can speak? I thought he could only communicate through ASL, though I have seen him strike up conver-"

"YOU KNOW GRILLBY!!?!" Carrie practically screamed.

You nodded that time. "I work for him. Monday through Friday, seven to midnight if you ever get the time." Speaking of time, you check your watch again, and almost shriek. It's 10:25.

"What's wro-"  
"CARRIE WOULD YOU LIKE ANYTHING."  
"You mean a-"  
"YES I MEAN A. IT'S TEN TWENTY-FIVE. GET SOMETHING NOW OR LEAVE."

She pointed wordlessly to a doughnut. You quickly finished the interaction, almost screaming, "BYE!" Into her face, and closed down the place. By the time you were finished, it was 10:34. You were fucked.

You grabbed your coat and hat, stuffed your notebook and pencil into your pocket, and ran out the door. You sprinted as fast as you could, you could see your building.

You were about four blocks away when a figure jumped on top of you, pushing you in between two buildings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After writing this chapter who knows how long ago, and finally posting it now, I realize one thing: I have lost all hope in my sense of pace and writing things. Halp me. When I post this, it's almost four my time, so I missed my quota. But I saw all of the first season(?) of Corpse Party randomly on YouTube, so I'm happy.
> 
> Also, how do you disable the "I have to check the comments before allowing them" nonsense? I've looked everywhere, and probably just looked away at the right time or something, idk. And yeah, tags change and shit. I WAS BORED, OKAY? THIS IS COMPLETELY RANDOM AND THERE SIMPLY TO GET THE DAYS TO MOVE BY FASTER. IT WASN'T IN THE PLOT SO SORRY! (Another reason for this chapter was to show that reader . . . kinda has personality . . . but not emotions . . . kinda?)


	6. Tell me how I'll be found

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey, you know how by now in quite a lot of fanfictions there's smut? WELL HERE'S NOT SMUT!  
> *yes, there's much gore in this chapter. After the stars is a little less gore, and a tiny bit of plot, so eh. Also! I'm pretty sure that most people can guess what's going on now, so my first summary rang truth.

Your head banged painfully onto the concrete, though you didn't cry out in pain. You looked through blurry eyes to see your attacker, though you knew that it was one of your . . . "Friends."

Another lady. Silky Hair close to the color of yours swept down to her shoulder, and then some. Piercing perfect dark eyes shown in the dim light. She smiled evilly, and swiftly grabbed your hand. Forcing you up, she then patted your arms, making you severely uncomfortable.

"Oopsie! Sorry for bumping into you!" She said in a fake soft voice.

You stared at her blankly. "So was Audrey AND Lily sick at the same time? I know it's you guys this week. Or are you trying to do a rotation method?" You asked, curious about what your "friends" were up to.

She narrowed her eyes, but gave you a hug anyway. The hug quickly became a squeeze, which then became plain suffocation. You felt the back of your shirt ruffle up from how tight she was choking you. Your arms were forced behind you.

Then she took the limb behind your back and bent it up. A snap echoed through the damp air, and a scream threatened to rip out of your mouth. You clamped your teeth shut. Why give Layah, your attacker and Audrey's younger twin sister, any pleasure from your screams?

"That," Layah said with a strained voice, strained from pinning you in a hug, "was for running into me."

She took the other limb and broke it, too. "And that was for being late." Then she stopped the hug and just as quickly pushed you down. You were so startled that you couldn't stop the fall. Your arms tensed in front of you as you landed on both limbs. You couldn't stop the low, pained groan that left you. Layah giggled, a high-pitched giggle that rang with an evil happiness.

She straddled you, keeping your back and limbs painfully crunching against the ground, raised her clenched fists, and slammed them down on your chest. The impact broke ribs. You felt huge pain and pressure on your lungs, and you began choking on the blood that was beginning to pool in your mouth.

She rolled you onto your back, letting the blood in your mouth and lungs spill onto the ground. She pulled your right arm behind you, pushing it hard against your already broken limbs.. Farther, farther she pulled your arm. The pain grew and grew, pain upon pain. Then, another crack was heard, and your arm went numb. You almost screamed, but stayed silent, grating your teeth instead.

She took something from your pocket. A wallet with a Leafeon on the cover. She searched inside and pulled out five dollars, staring at it in disgust, and threw the wallet back. You had learned to travel lightly.

Layah glared at your broken body. "Be sure to bring at LEAST a twenty next time. We still need money, you know. If you bring more money, then the price will be paid earlier," she giggled again, "see ya!" She winked and stuck out her tongue, then she walked away as if nothing ever happened.

* * *

You stayed there, letting yourself bleed for a bit. Then you tried to get up to your feet. Emphasis on tried. You got to your feet by hanging onto a trash bin. But as soon as you let go, you fell back down and lost more blood. You got smart around the third try, and leaned on the wall of the nearby house. You leaned until you could somewhat stand, trying without the wall a few times, and failing each time.

After you got to the point where you could stand and somewhat walk with your left hand on the wall, keeping your balance, you set off back to your apartment. it was very hard to go when all your blood felt like it was being used up.

It was very dark, and the whole street was deserted except for a person who's face was illuminated by his phone. He seemed familiar. As you tried to see who it was, he looked up and saw you.

. . . Oh, no.

"___!" His voice rang out with worry. Worry and fear. Huh, you felt like you were having deja vu. No, wait, that was just you remembering things you wanted to forget. Then you realised that he was literally running towards you.

"___! Are you okay? What happened?" He asked, catching up to you. You thought you saw the dim light of his phone on the ground behind him. "Here, let me heal you," he tried to take your right arm (sending pain shooting up to your brain), but you turned so he couldn't reach the broken appendage.

"I'm fine," you protested weakly, trying to get past him. He tried to catch your arm, but you dodged. He fell, and as he did, he brushed against the broken limbs behind your back. You held in a shriek, coughed instead due to your filling lungs, and took the opportunity to move ahead.

Sans crashed to the ground, and you knew he saw the twin stained circles of blood on your shirt. He got up almost immediately and ran back to you. "___, you're obviously not okay. C'mon, please? It'll hurt, but you won't even see a scar to-marrow." He winked and gave a nervous chuckle.

You didn't laugh. Thanks to your "friends", winks were evil incarnate. Instead, you snapped, "I know what healing feels like. I don't need your help. I CAN heal, you know." You realised you shouldn't have said that, but you covered up your fear with a quick, angry, "Now get out of my way," before you slowly walked back to your apartment building, up the stairs, and into the third floor apartment that was your own. The whole time leaving blood splatters behind you, like a trail to your problems.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!  
> I'MSORRYFORNOTPOSTINGYESTERDAY!!!  
> IWASFORCEDINTOAPLACEWITHNOWIFI!!!  
> PLEASEFORGIVEME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
> 
> **all characters in this story are based on my real, wonderful friends who wouldn't hurt a fly. Though, knowing them, will turn out the cheaters, sluts, addicts, and possibly murderers or hurting-for-money rebels of my generation. I don't hang out with good people '-_- but that's kinda why I hang out with them. And seriously, no one has been hurt or killed by anyone else. THEY ARE GOOD PEOPLE. PROBABLY. They like Undertale and Homestuck and such, so.


	7. Let it be known

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Horrible beginning. Someone kill me now. More plot, crying Frisk, crap is now a cuss word, who the fuck knows what was in my brain when I wrote this.
> 
> PEOPLE! I'm sorry if I don't answer your comments. I can never respond to anything. Plz don't kill meh  
> ;___;

And at that moment I decided to follow her. I followed the blood trail to her apartment, but when I reached her door, I left. I figured I needed to know where she lived before I took some REAL help.

The next day, I scheduled the appointment for that afternoon. Sure, it was on short notice, but the people were open. Then, when "that afternoon" came, I focused on where I should go, and popped out.

I landed at the entrance to a Mexican restaurant that Frisk had said had the, "Best food in the entire world." The place was called Mi Parilla. Sure, it was all the way in Indiana, but we ended up living near there almost completely for that. I took a seat and waited for company to arrive. Finally, after I had ordered tea for the group, they came. (Duh duh DUUUHHHHHH)

"Hey, Tori." I said to the oncoming group, which consisted of Undyne, Alphys, Toriel, Asgore, and Frisk. Everyone but my bro and the bucket of rusty bolts (no offense, Alphys) were out on a date. Plus, I was sure neither would be able to hide this conversation from her.

"Hello, Sans." Tori replied nicely as the group sat down. After all the hello's were exchanged, The goat woman cleared her throat. "Now, Sans, would you please tell us why you called us here? You sounded worried on the phone."

My smile quickly disappeared. I stared at Frisk, who was now fourteen, "It has to do with what happened to Frisk a year after we appeared on the surface."

Frisk gasped. "What did you do?" They asked, nervousness of the past coming back setting in. Frisk was now able to have vocal conversations, a big step from the mute they was when they were the fallen eight-year-old. Sometimes they still signed out of habit, but now their main language was English. "What did you find?"

"Frisk, could ya tell me some about ___?"

The kid seemed confused at first, but then got caught up in memories. "Well, she was six years older than me, but we were always friends. She always treated me like an adult, like someone her age, even though I was six at the time. We played a lot. Sometimes she read to me. Sometimes I read to her. Sometimes she helped me with my homework, and sometimes we both made up crazy gadgets out of cardboard boxes like Calvin and Hobbes. She was my onii-san. That is, until . . ."

"Until what?" I demanded.

Frisk lowered their head. "Something bad happened. It's hard to remember. But she changed. She stopped smiling and laughing. She couldn't sleep. She played with me less and less. One day, she left the town. I followed. When I saw where she was going, I . . . I . . ."

Frisk looked at Tori with big eyes. "She tried to fall." They choked out.

Surprised and worried glances were shared around the table. No one spoke.

"I tried to stop her. I grabbed her. I wouldn't let go. The worst p-part was," Frisk had begun to cry, "I-I turned her ar-round and-and looked at her. There were . . . Cuts all o-over her chest. Sh-she looked like she . . . Like she was dea-dead!"

Tori had reached over as soon as Frisk had started to cry, and now they were sobbing onto the monster's shoulder. Undyne looked pissed off at ___ for making Frisk see that. Alphys looked about to cry herself. Asgore was just soaking in the information, a sorrowed expression on his face. After Frisk had stopped crying, she didn't speak about it again.

The whole table was silent, only broken when Asgore asked, "Why did you need that information, Sans?"

There was a pause due to a waitress asking what we wanted, along with giving us chips and salsa (which Frisk immediately filled up on, with much glares from Tori).

Oh, yeah. I had asked the question. I had gotten everyone here. And everyone was looking at me. Being as curt as possible, I said, "because I found her."

I heard Frisk give a little gasp. Before they could speak, however, Toriel stopped them and spoke instead. "How?"

"I've actually known for two weeks. Surprisingly, she's been working for Grillby for the six years we've been up here. You know, curly red hair, greenish eyes, always wearing a beanie hat."

"That's her! How is she? Is she better?" Frisk demanded eagerly.

I sighed. "Don't keep your hopes up, kiddo. I haven't seen her smile yet. I don't know whether she sleeps or not. But from the sound of it, something worse is happening." I paused, "It's bad. If you don't want to hear it, it's fine by me."

Alphys didn't seem up for more, but she stayed anyway. Undyne gripped the dino's hand. "Of course! No way will we let that punk stay the way she is for long!" Asgore and Toriel agreed. Frisk hesitated, but nodded, needing to know what happened.

"Welp, yesterday I was coming home from Grillby's and such. I looked up and saw ___. Holy . . . Holy crap, was she beat up. I won't go into detail, but she was losing blood fast. But there was something -well, besides the fact that the lady was beaten up - ___ said she could heal herself. Do you know what what that meant?"

The group was silent, apart from the crunching of chips. Not even Toriel glared at my cuss word.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I almost missed my deadline! Boy those septipliers sure do waste time and battery percentage!
> 
> Oh my god you are wonderful pepsi pals. Thank you so much for the kudos and bookmarks. YOU'RE AMAZING!!!!!!
> 
> In random other news, I started watching Black Butler! No one cares? Okay . . . (;-;)
> 
> Mi Parilla! It's a small, family-run mexican restaurant in Indiana and oh my gawd is it the best mexican food ever. If you're local, GO THERE!!!
> 
> One last thing: for the people who want reason why it's specifally this ___ not some other . . . ___ never left her hometown and Frisk wanted to go back, partially for Mi Parilla, partially for ___.


	8. Tell me who will become still

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello Mellow!
> 
> Reader haz cats! Three! Only one is actually real! The one with the worst name! Huzzah!
> 
> Stupid filler . . . Kinda! I-I can't write.  
> I refrenced that stupid ship again. It's okay, Carrie won't look at Undertale, no matter how much I try to force her. She hasn't even seen Grillby yet irl.

I rented the hot dog stand for two weeks. It was to a guy who kind of looked like me, but he dressed more like a blue version of Papyrus's costume. Weird, since we had made that costume. The guy was actually a lot like Pap. He was really childish. He wanted to sell tacos (which didn't taste all that bad), so I let him. I also got Alphys to (reluctantly) let me get off work there too. When I told her what I planned to do, she told me that it was a really, REALLY, **REALLY** bad Idea. But she let me get off work anyway. So I began the plan.

* * *

You stretched your arms up, being careful with your right arm. It was still sore after being broken. Not like you weren't always sore. Tuesday morning, here I come. Last night wasn't a good night for drawing: nothing creative or original made it to the paper. The best you got was a bunch of scribbles. You yawned. It was starting to get close to the nap you had once a month. You got up-

-and immediately tripped over something and fell on your face. You made a surprised meow-like noise as you fell. When you finally got up, you saw it was your long-lost cat, Buttercup. She was a long true calico, and she often lost herself in the crap where you lived. You grew up in a messy house, and the apple doesn't fall far on the tree. Heh . . .

You got on your knees and rubbed the impatient cat's head. "What's up, Buttercup? Where's everyone else?" You got up, took a deep breath, and called out: "HEEEEEEERE, KITTY-KITTY-KITTY-KITTY!"

Almost immediately, another cat padded into the room. "Midnight!" You bent over and plopped yourself on top of the somewhat-angry black cat in a big body hug. After a bit, you decided that Nighty here was pissed enough. You rose and got your stuff ready, all the while searching for your last cat, Arrow Blackpaw. He was the oldest in the cat family, a black and white cat, and was always angry. Just as you left, you swore you saw a long, furry black tail in a doorway.

* * *

You slammed the door of the muggy bar shut. You hated the feeling of being watched, and that's the only thing you've felt all day. You practically had two burnt holes on the back of your shirt. Taking a deep breath, you turned around into the happy atmosphere. You immediately saw Sans, who was looking . . . dustier than usual. He had a shit-eating grin on his face, though you didn't know why.

You walked over to Grillby, who was doing bartender things. "Hey, Grill." He waved in response.

You began (extremely casually) doing barmaid things, and asked (even more extremely casually), "Heeey, Griiiiill, a really good friend of mine came over at a job of mine about three days ago and told me some about you. Her name's Carrie. Ring a bell?"

The elemental brightened and nodded.

"I've heard she's a good friend of yours. Am I right?"

He turned around slowly, a suspicious look somehow on his flame-face, and nodded slowly. You fell onto a bar stool and slumped onto the counter. "Just how much of a . . . friend is she?"

That got a reaction. He jumped back, blushing furiously (there were blue flames) and began signing quickly. _JUST A FRIEND SHE'S A FRIEND NOT A FRIEND FRIEND LIKE YOU'RE IMPLYING JUST A FRIEND JUST A FRIEND JUST A-_

You would've laughed if you were normal. "Oh, come on Grill! The blind could see and feel how much you're blushing from a mile away! If you're NOT what I was implying, then maybe . . . ?"

 _Why are you implying so much?_ He asked, hitting his head on the counter and burning some crumbs. His head was almost completely blue from blushing.

"Well, if you wanna change the conversation, I never knew that you were geek! What area?"

 _Why are you to torture me?_ Was the miserable reply.

You stared seriously at a flaming head. "Grill, until you say yes or no to the question, I WILL torture you verbally for the rest of time, even if it means losing my job."

Grillby whined, then reluctantly raised his head. _Can I tell you after work? People are watching._

He was right, the whole bar was silent. They had a right, too. In all the years you had worked for the elemental, he had never reacted like this. Jeez, the lady was really making a mess out of him. You shrugged. "You sound like a five-year-old. And if you want these people to hear all the jaunts and questions that are sooo terrible, then yes, you could tell me after work."

He whined again. _Can I whisper?_

You gave him a glare. "Yes, and you can also swim in a lake."

He slumped even more onto the counter and signed something barely readable after some hesitation.

_. . . . . . yeah . . . . . . I do. I like her._

You turned around. The elemental's signs were so faint and small that no one else saw what he said. You cleared your throat. "You answered the question. No one else saw, and I won't tease you, so both of your wishes have been granted. Even though I didn't know much. But if you wished I was completely done with this subject, just wait until you see what I have in store."

As he called out, _What are you gonna do?_ (A question you ignored), you grabbed a ketchup bottle and swiftly tossed it to the unsuspecting Sans. Then you grabbed you paper and walked over to the nearest monster, a somewhat-scared bunny with swirling eyes, obviously already drunk. "What do ya want?"

Your plan was in action.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reader you evil person you. US Sans refrence lol I'm so bored. School has started and I already know I'm way out of my league. "suprised meow-like noise?" Nyaaaa! Everybody knows what's happening in this chapter, right?
> 
> My biggest writing pet peeve is that everything I write is so god damn short! How do you fix that?? Please give me tips ;-; plez. Less boring will come in the future, I promise. I might even write ahead againa and actually have someone go over it for once!
> 
> Oh, and random thing? Did you know that eating skittles and sunkist at the same time apparently makes you high in a way? I haven't dome that, but people say it's true. I'm getting a six-pack and two bags and bringing my friend over to see if it's true. Hope it workes (I guess?)
> 
> Soda later!


	9. When I am shown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New friend! Obvious things! Wooden apples! And much more!

You get distracted from your Neko Atsume sketch by the sound of a Skype message. It was the next morning, around 3:00 A.M. You groaned, you were actually getting somewhere. You slid your swivel chair to your laptop and answered the message, knowing that anyone up this late/early would be an actual friend of yours. The message read:

MARYMALONE2150- me: KILL TE DRAGON! KILL IT!  
Jeff: *screams girlishly*

You leaned back in your chair, trying to think up a response. This was basically how you and Amanda spent the nights whenever she was up. You yawned, reminding you even more of sleep, and typed back.

YOU- me: why?  
Me: dragons are cool!  
Me: even better than TARDIS's and cats!  
Me: not better than cats!  
Me: Shut up Steven!  
Jeff: COULD YOU MAYBE HELP!?!  
Mark: You know, their might've been more people if you hadn't killed Audrey and if ___ hadn't poisoned Layah, you know.  
Jeff: THAT BITCH WAS TRYING TO LEAVE!!! NOW HELP!!!  
Me: WE WERE PLAYING 'WHO TOOK THE CYANIDE!' IT'S NOT MY FAULT SHE ATE IT!

You sent and smiled. Ah, the dream world where everyone who hurt you could be murdered easily by all the creepypastas you wanted to generate.

You began to go back to the drawing while your friend challenged her almost-dyslexic-bad-spelling, but a large thump shook away your train of thought. You turned to the direction of your window, watching as two out of three cats padded over to inspect the glass. You abandoned the conversation and joined your furry fellows.

You opened the curtains, revealing the night sky. You scanned your shared lot. There was nothing on the lawn, nothing on the extremely close and constantly loud road, nothing in the- . . . Wait one fucking minute . . .

You went to you desk and grabbed a wooden apple. You stole a glance at a tree that was near your window. You found your target and aimed. 

Then you threw the apple directly at the big discolored spot in the tree. You didn't actually hit it, but the figure was startled so much that it lost it's balance and fell out of the tree. You heard it shout as it fell. You stared at the ground, waiting for the thing to land.

After two long minutes, you turned and grabbed the nearest flashlight and fully searched the tree from the window. There was no sign of it. You cursed and went back to the conversation. Mandy (that was her nickname) and you roleplayed until it was six, when you finally realised that school might be a good idea. As you began to make breakfast, you went over to the window again. There was a fairly large gap where you had seen the spot. You blinked. The wooden apple was tucked snugly between two branches.

Welp, someone's new at this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I called myself out bwahabaha  
> Skittles and sunkist DON'T make you high (p.s. I,actually had two friends over and no one read over) p.s. IM SORRY I MISSED MY DEADLINE CARRIE DIDN'T KNOW HER WIFI PASSWORD.  
> MaryMalone is fake. Not real. Amanda is, of course. But not that skype account. At least I don't know I mean it wasn't hers.
> 
> Fun fact: Amanda skyped me with that meme (the one with who took the cyanide and the pink faries) and I didn't know it was a meme. I actually sent back a response. By now everyone's in a mirror world (mand is Bloody Mary), and I tried to solve the big problem, which was that Mandy had killed Asgore and was being forced to marry Horrertale Papyrus.


	10. And I'll

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More violence, you can go to the astrix (even though there really isn't any, this is just to those who hate seeing reader all beaten up.  
> Also, bubble physics.  
> Hey, look! Big ball of plot is back!
> 
> (Hooray, ten chapters! I love the little things in life!)

About a week later, I woke up in Grillby's, wondering what time it was. My neck felt stiff from falling asleep on a counter. After hearing from Grillby that it was past ten, I realised that Pap would definitely be worried about where I was off to. I left after putting whatever I bought onto my tab and thinking up a few good puns to infuriate a certain skeleton. As it was late, and my nap left my slightly groggy, I decided to walk instead of teleporting, missing the couch and falling to my death next to it.

As I walked, my breath making cold puffs in the Autumn air (yes, skeletons do breathe), I looked up. Though the place my brother and I were living in was near the city, if not in it completely in it, the stars were still there. Though they weren't as great as when we arrived here in who knows where, the few I could see sparkled happily. This was the place where Frisk grew up, where she lived happily.

This was where ___ grew up. This ___ was certainly an interesting person. A few times, I even tried to look at her Soul. Of course, I didn't try to bring it out, I only tried to see it. It . . . wasn't there. Either it was so buried deep that no one could see it . . . or maybe it had blackened. That would make sense, except the fact that blackened souls tended to be only with dead people. So probably not that.

Without realising it, I had begun to walk the path that went past ___'s apartment. I don't know why, probably because I had begun thinking, but I certainly was happy that I did.

After a few blissful minutes of walking and thinking in peace, I heard something. A faint Thump sounded from ahead. Knowing full well that it could just be nothing, I picked up my pace, only to investigate. As I got closer, a voice began becoming clear.

" . . . . bitch! C'mon, scream! You've gotta once to pay the price!" A sickening crack rang out. "If you don't do anything, this one's gonna be lost, too. It'll be hard getting back home if they're both gone, won't it? Three . . . Two . . . One!" Another crack.

By then I forgot my shortcuts and was focusing on sprinting towards the voice. I wasn't dumb, and I knew someone was being hurt. When I got there . . .

There was ___, lying on her side against the wall. Her head was hidden, but I still saw the bruises. Both of her legs were bent at alarmingly unnatural angles, and I could see bone poking through one side. Blood was trickling down, and bruises were forming all around the shin. An arm hung limp over her body, and her breathing was heavy and strangled.

Next to her was a guy. He was distinctly wearing a dark jacket and a black bowler hat. He smiled cruelly, slightly bloody, and took out something from his pocket. It gleamed under the moonlight, and I knew instantly that it was a blade. "Oh, we haven't even begun. You better not faint on me!"

* * *

The guy suddenly stopped and stared at me. I only then noticed the blue flaming leaping from my eye. I was infuriated. I summoned at least five or six Gaster Blasters, fully bringing the attention of the man. He tried to run. I shot one Blaster near his head, but he moved more then I planned, and it his his arm. He yelled, the now red-hot knife falling from his limp hand, and sprinted around a corner out of the alley.

I would deal with him later. Right then ___ was . . . I looked around, my magic subsiding, then ran out of the alleyway. ___ was limping badly, one hand on the walls of apartments and stores, moving the direction of her home. "Geez, five block away this time," I heard her mutter.

"___!" I shouted, catching up easily.

Without turning back, she dryly said, "Thanks."

"Please, stop. It's a really bad idea to walk on broken legs, believe me." I remembered some grim times involving Undyne and the owner of the Patience Soul.

"Tell me something I don't know. Besides, how else am I going to get home? I can't teleport like you can. Anyway, I've walked home on two broken legs before, so."

"Well, that doesn't make it a good thing!"

She stopped and slowly turned around. "Spying isn't a good thing, either, but I don't see you stopping."

I wasn't taken back at all. "Hey, call me a newbie, but I didn't want things like this happening."

She rolled her eyes. "You hit the tree right in front of my apartment AND you left my wooden apple exactly where you were, you've had a shitty grin the whole time, and half of my clothes have holes from how much staring at my back you've done. And you even missed last week. So yeah, you're a newbie. You need to show me how you teleport someday, though."

"Wanna see something cooler? It'll blow you away." ___ hesitated, then nodded. I lit up my eye and surrounded her body with a familiar cyan glow. Her eyes widened in curiosity and slight caution, and she tried to step back. I chuckled and lifted her into the air, causing a surprised noise from the now-floating person. "Now you won't have to femur the pain from walking on broken bones."

She seemed to forget everything that was going on currently. While ignoring me, she looked around curiously, tested the air, tried to roll around in the air with no success, and basically just played in the air as I carried her back to her apartment. Then she stopped, and I heard an "oooooooooooohhhh" as she finally got my joke. I barely kept in laughter. 

I shook her slightly so ___ would look over. "Hey, there's gonna be a big sleepover at my house next week Sunday. I don't know why this is happening, and knowing you, you won't tell me, but this won't interfere. I'm only saying that because it seems like this is weekly, which is horrible, but I'm not gonna butt in much more."

"Much more?"

"I just wanna know who else knows."

She swam in the air for a bit more before answering. "Well, my actual friends, there's about four or five, and Muffet."

"Wait, Muffet knows?"

"Of course. You know that she's my boss, my work outfit tends to become bloody often, plus she has spiders in every square inch of Earth. She gets news so quickly that I'm surprised she hasn't become the world's first monster news reporter." ___ nodded at a few scuttling spiders. "Well, to get back to the question, yes, I will come to the sleepover. I'm sure it will connect with my sleeping pattern."

I looked up at her. " . . . Sleeping pattern?"

"I may sleep once a month. So who's coming? Papyrus, Undyne, maybe Alphys?"

I stared up at her. "You know them?"

___ sighed. "You went and did almost nothing but talk about them at Grill's. Either that or flirting, asking questions, or making puns. You 'mustard' remember, right?"

I laughed nervously until I reached ___'s apartment (It wasn't that far away). She stayed silent. When I got to the door, I looked at the floating lady's face. "Are you sure you don't want me to heal you?" I floated her down to the door.

She shook her head as she unlocked her 'house'. "Nah, I'll get to it later." She braced herself as I slowly brought her back down to Earth. The glow of magic disappeared, and she winced as she regained balance on her bad legs.

"Hey, ___? Can we trade numbers? I'd rather not stalk anymore."

"No can do skelz. I don't have a phone. I do have a Skype, however. Do you?"

"I heard it was helpful. So yeah."

___ went in and peered out. "Give me the information on there. Look for HelloMellow. See ya." She closed the door, and I heard the heavy footsteps pad away.

After a few minutes, I left too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, now to make sure that next weeks chapter is okay. *opens writing app* *sees almost literally nothing* . . . *screams*
> 
> Yeah, I need to stop watching youtube and soul eater and actually start writing for a bit :T but this actually lets me ask you guys (whom I love with all my heart my god the views and everything) something: I don't want just Sans, reader, and reader's friends in this fic anymore. I want a monster. I was wondering, WHO?
> 
> Undyne?  
> Alphys?  
> Paps?  
> Or Mets? (Last two have no clue who reader is lol)
> 
> Plz comment, and I'm sorry I don't answer, times are really hard and anxiety blocks me from the media world. And the fact that wifi has been banned past midnight since my tablet was found ;U; (reader is actually a kuudere I had never realized that :3)


	11. Be forgotten in time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> DINO-LIZARD FRIENDS UNITE!
> 
> (I'm sorry if this chapter is horrible, my tablet randomly deleted half of this chapter at nne o'clock. Also things have been going on and my stress is just piling.)

Earlier that day, you walked into your secretary job to learn that a part of the building was slightly flooded, and you didn't see the memo that you would be free of that job from that day to (luckily) Monday. Now you were strolling around a mall, trying to figure out how you were going to set up an animation you had been planning to make for a while. You were casually window-shopping, all the while knowing you would never have enough to buy anything past Walmart, which was just how you liked it.

Okay, so maybe you were searching for a certain skeleton, too. He hadn't been able to find your Skype yet for all you could tell, and the date of the sleepover was literally tomorrow. You walked around for a bit longer until you began thinking this journey was all for naught. You sighed and turned around

and ran face-first into a miget monster (sorry I had to).

You stepped back, startled and dazed, while the yellow monster (you couldn't decide if it was a dinosaur or a lizard) dropped and spilled a big bag filled to the brim with books. Realising what you had done, you blushed a new shade of embarrassment and began picking up the soft-covers, apologising profusely the whole time.

"O-oh, it's ok-kay . . ." She stammered, equally as embarrassed, " You d-don't have to help . . .I-I can d-do this easily!" She began grabbing every book she could reach with clammy hands. You ignored her, shifting over to snatch the last few books and handing them out to her. Before she could take them, you actually read the title of the top cover.

"Wait a second," you muttered, staring at the book fully (stopping a nervous dino-lizard in her tracks of trying to get said book). You pointed at (what a surprise) the book, an odd glimmer in your eye.

"Is this what I think it is?" You asked.

"Wh-whaa . . . I-I don't know . . . ?" Replied the somewhat-scared monster.

"Is this Fullmetal?"

After a minute, realization clicks in. "O-oh, yeah! I'm g-getting pretty close to the end."

You finally hand back volume 17 of Fullmetal Alchemist. "Not even close. You're about halfway. I've read the story probably five times." And then the dino-lizard smiles.

The two of you finally get up, and with you in the lead, wander to your favorite place to get cheap anime. Of course, creatures can't be instant friends without introducing each other, right? As you wander, you learn the (probably) dino was named Alphys. She was the royal scientist before monsters came to the surface, and still is. Apparently she was currently working on something about Souls, which you decided it was better not to comment on. You also found out she had created Mettaton. You know, the platinum princess in a male body (it took you two month to figure that part out) that was just a more of an asshole as almost every bitchy celebrity you've seen on a magazine combined.

"Nice," you replied.

You, in return, said your name, and that you were an artist-otaku, very similar to a genius-otaku as herself, and that drawing and Grillby's were your jobs. Not everything, but enough to make her happy. You noticed she seemed very much not happy when you told her her name. To be honest, you wondered why everybody knew your name and apparently shunned it.

Of course, everything changed when Alphys asked if she could see your drawing sometime. You wordlessly took out your travel drawing pad, flipped a few pages, and finally responded by shoving a sketch of a fox-girl in her face. Alphys responded by snatching your notebook and looking through ALL THE PAGES, all the while saying something in the extremely quick language of squeal. You picked up "fanfiction," "Mew Mew," "artist," and not very much else. You came so extremely close to laughing that it hurt your everything to not.

You two ended up completely forgetting about the book store and wandered aimlessly, talking about anime (her favorite was a pretty old anime called Mew Mew Kissy Cutie, and yours was Soul Eater), and such. In her squealness, she was apparently trying to give you a job in drawing a comic for a fanfiction of hers, saying you were even better then the creators of Kissy Cutie. You agreed, and traded skype numbers with her, enjoying how Skype was truly the dominant of all texting medias for those who had no apples (literally) in the basket of their homes.

Eventually you two strolled outside, into what looked like an outdoor mall cafeteria. There were food booths every place they could find room. And, of course, Sans the Stalker was behind a booth of his own.

You sighed, frustrated with life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry, I'm just a little more depressed and sarcastic at the moment. Things have been happening, bad things, and the stress of school isn't helping either. Life hates me at the moment.


	12. No matter how hard I try

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *tries to highlight work*  
> *thinks I deleted 7/8 of it*  
> *scrolls up*  
> . . . Guess I haven't completely given up on humanity yet :'D
> 
> Oh look I'm alive.  
> I suck at puns. Also I'm tired, it's 1:20 and I've been watching everyone do Sister Location.

"Hey, you wanna try to find that half-price boo-"

"H-Hey, there's Sans! Here, l-let's go to h-him. You know Sans, r-right?"

"Well, yeah, but-"

Th-then let's come o-over! He's already s-seen us . . ." Alphys kept interrupting your weak attempts at leaving. You sighed again, and you both went over to the skeleton, who had indeed already seen you, and wasn't completely oblivious to your desperate attempts at escaping very quickly.

"H-hey, Sans!" Alphys greeted happily. You just waved.

Sans put on his shit-eating grin mask. "Hey, Alphy. Icy you've dragged ___ over, too. What brings you to this pole?"

You take a deep breath. "Sans, it's not even Halloween yet. You can't be making Christmas puns."

"That's not what every store ever is saying. Anyway, since you've decided to pop into the nice cream territory, it seems you've been caught into a sticky situation."

Alphys groaned at the pun bomb. You knew the skeleton was laughing inwardly not at your ability to tolerate the jokes, but the faces your dino friend was making to tolerate them. 

"Oh!" Sans exclaimed. "Alphys! Undyne's been looking for you." The dino yelps and dashes away before Sans can specify anything. You stared after her, trying to get something in your mind.

Then something in your brain turned on. After a few minutes, you took yet another deep breath, and looked coldly at the slightly shaking (from laughter) skelly.

"Shouldn't you be selling us . . ." You read the logo on the travel cart. "Shouldn't you be selling me nice creams?"

Sans stopped shaking and turned toward you. "Huh? Oh, yeah, I guess, but-"

"Well then," you interrupted, your mental smile wider then the Cheshire cat's. "You must be snow good at your job."

You watched as his face slowly change from a mask into the real deal. "Icy what you did there."

"What can I say? I'm not gonna leave someone on thin ice."

"But puns will break it."

"Well, when lives are at skate, I'm not someone who would flip out."

Sans took out a piece of Toxic Waste candy from his jacket. "Even if they're sour?"

You went behind the cart, searched, and grabbed a nice cream sandwich. "Well, if they are, then I be sandwiched in a place I don't want to be. Either break the ice or save the sourpuss."

"Wich side?" He seemed more serious then curious.

You thought for a second. "I dunno. Hey, if I buy a nice cream, then can I talk to you?"

"You don't need to ask. Price's five bucks."

After a bit of haggling, you were able to get a three-fifty popsicle of your choice of color. You chose green. Before you stuck the treat in your mouth, you made sure to get in the question, "How come you haven't skyped me about where the sleepover's at? Were you able to find it?"

The skeleton put a few bucks into the register and pulled out a popsicle of his own. He bit off the tip of one and chewed, startling you. How . . . ? You'd question later. Setting that in the "remember" section of your brain, you also decided to reinforce that question. Before you could try, however, Sans answered.

"It's at my house." He replied, crunching slightly on the piece he bit off.

"And where's that?"

"A few blocks away. I figured I'd pick you up. You did say you wanted to be teleported, anyway."

"Fair point," you stopped eating your nice cream. "Could you tell me a bit more about your friends? After a while, I did stop listening."

"I understand. Well, you just met Alphys. Shes-"

"The Royal Scientist, creator of the metal scraps with glitter thrown on -sorry-, otaku, wants me to draw a comic. I wrestled most about her out, so that's covered." After a second, you added, "Sorry for interrupting. Please continue. 

"Um, well, Undyne's gonna be there. She was the royal guard's leader. Calls everyone 'nerd' or 'punk.' She's also alphy's girlfriend."

"Nice. But, just saying, I prefer 'bitch' and 'geek.' Let's see . . . I already know enough about your brother for a medium-sized essay . . . Is Tori gonna be there?"

Sans looked away. "Nah, she's gotta take care of her daughter. Got sick or somethin'." You easily saw this was a lie, but said nothing.

What about mets?

"Yeah," he growled.

"Aww, shit."

"What?"

You sighed. "I hate make-up, unless it's for costume purposes. And I know I'm gonna feel like a clown with her around."

Skelly chuckled. "You know the thing's a guy, right?"

You feigned a gasp. "There's a gender in that rusty bucket? I didn't know since he has the body and drama of both genders. At least IT hasn't gotten any sex tapes out. Then the gender would be known!"

Sans commented that one of his best friends was gender-neutral. You apologized and asked who it was, but he stayed silent. "But I do know what you mean," he continued. "I don't know what Paps sees in him."

"Oh yeah, he is dating Mr. Pop Star, isn't he?"

"Don't remind me," the skeleton growled.

You shrugged. You knew it pissed you off whenever Mandy did it, but you figured you got what you gave when it came to your good friends. Wait . . .

You finished off the popsicle and looked at the stick briefly before throwing it away. "Are those fangs natural?" You repeated while getting your books (and a Fullmetal Alchemist manga that might've belonged to a dino). You reminded Sans to find your Skype, and left rather quickly.

* * *

Why did you agree to the sleepover?

You couldn't let anyone else in, but you had already subconsciously thought two strangers were your friends . . .

You couldn't . . . There was too much to hide . . .

Too much that hurt . . . Too much that couldn't be told or seen to anyone . . .

. . .

You ran home and decided to give baking a try.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello mellow! Sorry, I got really unmotivated, plus everyone decided to do random art contests and I started inktober (keep on forgetting to do that lol) and also school is really hard to not feel like you're super dumb.
> 
> I'll be trying to post every Friday again, but understand if I'm too busy and miss a week. . . But it's really difficult to not get people's minds into places when someone's eating a popsicle °-°


	13. I'll be a wasted life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tired, shower, cookies. The words of the day.
> 
> Also Mandy.

Welp, baking was a bust.

With the excitement of walking around the mall, you had completely forgotten how gosh darned tired you were. You decided to make cookies, which of course was the universal dish for happiness. What type of cookies, however, halted your delirious brain for a bit.

After a night filled with cussing and mess, you finally got to the point of now, where you were lounging on your small couch, waiting for none other than Mandy to drive over and help you not fail miserably. You allowed yourself to watch a bit of Steven Universe while you waited (your geek levels ranged far and wide; no amazing cartoon, amazinger anime, or amazingest comedy movie could escape your geeky grasp).

A knock was heard, and you went to the door. Politely opening it, you also decided that (politely) almost falling down from standing up too quickly was a good thing too. Attempting to blink away the little pixels in your vision, you let your friend in.

Your friend (the lady with short light brown hair and dyed red streaks, blue-hazel eyes, and a puppy-dog face) looked around while smelling the air. "Holy shit, it smells like minty failure in here."

You sigh-yawned. "Yeah, apparently making mint-chocolate cookies while slightly hallucinating isn't a good combination." God, your wonderful hobby of not sleeping helped your life SO much.

"Yeah, not really." Mandy replied. "So, I'm guessing you want me to make the cookies for you?" Your friends knew as much as you did about that wonderful hobby, and helped you when thinking was too hard to do. You had decided long ago that those people were that rare kind of friend who wasn't an asshole.

Needless to say, you were keeping them.

"Nooo, nooo, I want you to just HELP me." You answered sluggishly.

She stared at you. "Right, I'm making them. Go take a shower and I'll make our lord and savior, coffee." She pushed you towards your bathroom. You tried taking your time, until another push forced you through the door, which was then shut rather loudly.

You sighed and turned on the bath, forcing the handle to boiling hot. After it warmed up, you moved it back until it was about halfway. You pulled a knob, which caused the artificial rain began pouring down. You took off your clothes, not bothering to look in the mirror, and stepped in.

As you showered, you sang. It wasn't loud (liar), it wasn't good (friends disagreed with that, yet it was true), but you sang. It was funny how your two most favorite songs were two vocaloids singing about suicide. How too much of your favorite songs covered dark topics. But you sang anyway.

You finished up cleaning and turned off the rain, causing a big SPLOOSH! of water pouring out of the bath faucet for a second. You dried off and decided your towel would be today's Sunday outfit. You didn't bother to actually clothe yourself, the towel-dress would work. It was just your friend, and nothing says friendship like "I've been basically naked in front of my friends many times."

You walked in and almost got your head smashed in by the force of Mandy sticking a cup of Joe (fresh Joe, of course. No hobo or artifical/robot Joes either.) In your face.

"Drink or I'll kill you." The lady replied, mixing a bowl of whatever was supposed to go in the cookies. You looked over, sipping the hot cup. Some of the ingredients she stuck in that batter was nowhere near what you decided on.

You were beginning to feel better. Sure, you weren't exactly out of the red zone yet, but you were better. "I hope they coffee-spiked everything there." You mumbled after a moment of sipping.

"Who and were?" Mandy asked, pouring the batter into cookie forms.

"Oh, I was just going over to a monster's house for a sleepover and to meet a bunch of other monsters." You replied coolly.

"Ah, I see. Nice."

You settled into the couch and watched more of the Crystal Gems. After a bit of shuffling and the sound of an oven door closing, your friend joined you.

Soon Buttercup thought joining would be a cool thing to do too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's short, but this week was "get your shit ship-shaped, it's second quarter, now go do 4 tests on friday." And I answer with 2-a.m.-tired syndrome, partly because I'm doing homework a midnight, partly because I feel the want to hallucinate in the near future. Don't ask. But I missed one question in honors science, dunno about algebra but part 2 is on Monday, and I straight-up flunked soc. Studies and english, and I feel like crap.
> 
> So eh.


	14. So this is my goodbye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I love you people. Don't hate me because this chapter is complete shit.
> 
> . . .
> 
> . . . At leat you see reader's apartment.

After half an hour, I decided that simply banging on the door wasn't good enough anymore. I found that the door was open and let myself in.

I had to admit, the place was small. There was a living room which consisted of a two-person couch with a wooden side table, and a fairly large T.V. placed on a bookshelf that reached from ceiling to floor, with no empty space. On the left was a kitchen that was even smaller. It reeked of mint extract, and batter was everywhere. In the middle of the disaster was a tin covered with Halloween decorations. 

On the other side was a room larger the the living room. That room was nothing but mayhem. One corner had a table filled with crafting items and crafts partly completed. The second corner had computers and drawing tablets, a few even on to show some beautiful artwork. The third corner had and easel with a picture of a girl with two super-long orange ponytails that was almost complete. The fourth corner had . . . ___. It looked like she had fallen from the easel chair, and had curled up against the turn in the wall, breathing softly.

I sighed, knowing her reaction when she woke up to me. Then I bent down and began shaking her.

As I expected, ___ shuffled a bit, looked over, saw me, and jumped. She sat up too quickly and ended up banging her head against the easel. She yelped and rubbed her head, then glared at me. "What're you doing in my home?!"

"Oh, you know, just being a creepy stalker and picking up the person living here for a supposedly wonderful sleepover." I smirked.

"Oh," ___ mumbled, getting up shakily. She walked-er, stumbled- to the kitchen, grabbed the Halloween tin, and turned back around to stare at me. "So, how are we gonna do this?" She asked, still rubbing her head.

I walked over and held out my arms. "First, hug." I declared with a wink.

___ backed away. "No way, dude. I don't do hugs."

"But you gotta have a friendship hug before Papyrus's friendship spaghetti."

"I'll have a friendship cookie then." 

I huffed a stubborn sigh. "You can't teleport unless I get a hug." 

She looked around, grabbed a black cat, and gave it to me rather violently. "Here's your hug." I placed said cat back on the ground.

I looked back up. "I can't teleport people without a type of physical interaction. And unless you want most of your body trapped in the void, hugs are preferred."

She finally gave in, angrily sigh-yawn-groaning. I walked over and wrapped my arms around her. Then we went through the void. ___ seemed all too happy to get out of the hug, and broke away as soon as we touched the ground. After a moment to regain her composure and make sure that the Halloween tin was still in her hands, she turned to the group of monsters and spoke.

"Hello, complete strangers. My name is ___, and, whether or not you like it, you won't be strangers much longer." After a second thought, she added, "and no, I DON'T like hugs, so stay away from that area."

Good luck wuth that. We're friendly monsters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Ow. I guess they didn't hit m head enough yet."
> 
> Ahhh I'm so sorry I couldn't post last week! Between school and the stress of parents caused from school, plus the undying need to watch whatever Youtube posts on the subscribers at two in the morning (blame me on the last one) I barely found time to write!
> 
> Buut happiness prevails! This came out! And I'm dressing like Snas for Halloween! (But whatever you say, white hair on a skeleton doesn't make sense. Sans's soul is cyan, so that's what his hair should be. When he created his eye or mouth, THAT'S cyan, so why people draw his hair whute baffles me.)


	15. Wake me when I have the courage to die

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ahh, California time. So wierd. I'm here for a good chunk of the week. Also, I'm sorry, I just love my ds. And anime.

You woke up sharply, looking around frantically at the unfamiliar territory until your eyes crossed the big flat-screen that you somehow noticed. An anime you had never seen before was playing. Finally, you realized you were laying on your stomach in the middle of the skelebro's house. Nothing unusual in any way. You sighed in relief, shaken by the nightmare. and pulled out your Nintendo 3ds XL (copyright lol) from your pocket. Banged up, scratched, and with a broken screen, it was your second-best friend for years, beaten only by Youtube . . . And, of course, real friends . . . You guess.

After your last sentence about NOT hugging you, you were squashed as literally everyone shared a look, got up and glomped you. That was their great introduction. But after introductions (most of which you had already known, and a bonus: Mettaton never showed up!) and almost three hours of pure anime, talking, and reminders to thank Mandy for the cookies, you ended up sitting on the edge of the couch and playing on the 3ds. Being around people tended to keep you up whether you liked it or not, so you decided you might as well. 

You fought off a smile as you got your Mammoswine to step on a Delibird for the gagillionth time. While leveling up your party on the birds, you didn't seem to notice Undyne's loss of interest toward anime and cookies, instead focusing on the game you were playing. She finally got up out of the love-seat (much to Alphys's disappointment) to sit next to you and stare.

You still didn't notice and continued to not notice until a blue finger stuck out and smudged the cracked screen, and a voice practically shouted, "What IS this game?" 

You shooed away the finger with a glare. "Do you know what Pokemon is?" The fish monster cocked her head with an expression that answered your question completely. "One second," you muttered, turning away to dump all of your Pokemon in the bank before restarting your game. "Pokemon is . . ." (Anyone who doesn't want to hear reader ramble about Pokemon, skip the next paragraph.)

You thought for a second. "You guys have exp. And hp, right? And levels, too?" Undyne nodded. "Well, in Pokemon, it's a little different. Exp. stands for experience points, not execution points. Lv. is level, as in how far they've grown. Hp . . . Well, hp. stays the same. In every game, you are given a starter Pokemon, which you use to catch wild Pokemon. The idea is that you're supposed to wander the region you're placed in, while either trying to collect every Pokemon in that game's current existence, or compete to become champion, which is what most people-you know what?"  
You put the device in the confused Undyne's hands right as the intro began playing. "Just play for yourself. The game answers a lot of questions. Oh- and try not to break the ds. It's gone through years and years of belonging to me, so it's kinda close to breaking up."

You spent a good couple hours like that. While everyone else slowly crowded behind the couch to watch, you answered any questions you could. Papyrus didn't like it that you were forced to fight, and Sans had to be told repeatedly that the Pokemon didn't die, they just fainted and could be revived easily, but soon enough, the anime was background noise.

You sighed as Undyne (who was totally hooked) saved and handed the device back to you. Papyrus stood up. "WOULD ANYONE LIKE SOMETHING TO DRINK?" He shout-spoke.

You answered immediately. "Do you have any monster beer?

"ER, N-"

"I HAVE SOME IN THE CAR!" Undyne interrupted. You gave her one serious nod, and she was gone.

"U-um, I'll just have s-some water . . ." Alphys muttered.

"OKAY, THEN! SANS, COME WITH ME, AND WE SHALL GET DRINKS! NYEHEHE!" Before the short skeleton could say a word, he was being dragged away into the kitchen.

The rest of the night, you learned that monster beer was SO MUCH stronger then regular beer, and before Paps and Sans FINALLY came back out (obviously they were talking, as Papyrus was actually talk-whispering), you were already slurring. Anime was the main topic-well, that and not spilling drinks-for the rest of your awakeness at least. You were the first to lose the stay-awake contest, losing your place on the couch and the rest of your beer (thanks, Undyne).

Aaand now here you were, sober enough to not be slurring but not sober enough to have a hangover. You were about to try drawing on the device, knowing fully well how horrible it would end up but knowing it would relieve the anxiety you were feeling, when you heard a clack. You looked over sharply and saw none other then Sans, glass in hand, who had bumped a rock that was lying on the ground. He looked back at you and stared with wide eyes. You didn't know why, you were just lying on the couch, playing on your-

Oh.

Oh, god. Oh shit oh fuck ohshitsomeonepleasehelpyoushitfuckgodsomeonesaveyounowPLEASE.

You weren't on the couch.

You were supposed to be on the floor.

. . .

Why did you have to come over?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for everything people! You guys are the best supporters . . . I barely ever thank you, so have a thousand thank yous each!
> 
> (I don't have anything to say for once lol)


	16. 'Cause I'm too scared to try

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Normal readers don't "float." They only do so when their bag of shit lessens. Or worsens. You're choice, reader.

I was lead (more like 'handed') into the kitchen with Papyrus shrieking out his laughs and squeezing on my arm so hard I thought it might break. The sleepover had gone well so far, with ___ getting everyone to enjoy Pokemon and sneaking everybody's Skype out from under their noses. But now I was getting drinks. Well, A drink. Erm, a drink and a talk with Paps.

"Sans," Papyrus whispered (actually tried, so he was quieter then normal voices) after filling up a glass of water for the otaku. "I must ask, is the human okay?"

"Huh?" I was not expecting that.

He sighed. "What I mean to say is, she hasn't smiled or laughed the whole night! I'm just worried, that's all. Are we . . . being bad hosts?"

It was only then that I remembered that Papyrus was never told about ___. "No, I'm absolutely sure she's been having a good time."

"But then why hasn't she shown it?"

"Well, it's that- um, it- uh . . ." I stopped and thought about what I would say. I didn't actually know everything that was wrong with ___. All I knew was that she seemed to be beaten once a week in a fashion that made it so she always knew it was going to happen. It was horrible. But I had a feeling that there was something more to it them just that. Wouldn't I be able to see her Soul if there wasn't?

"I . . . wish I could say that I knew." I went for the honest-in-the-nicest-way route. "Something happened to her. Everyone's trying to help as much as they can to find out. But ___ just likes to keep her emotion to herself. At least, that's how I like to think of it."

Wow. Not very nicest-way, self. But I truly thought that she still has emotion. Almost desperately, actually. Maybe then, the terrible idea that her Soul blackened would never even come up as a possibility. I hated the idea that a Soul could lose its color, its emotion, the thing that made that person alive, and become jet-black during a human's final hours was horrifying to say the least. But then, why wasn't ___ dead yet? The only people who supposedly have survived a blackened Soul were living in the Void, and I only knew that idea through reading Gaster's notes. Even he wrote it was just a theory, and realistically "highly unlikely."

I finally regained my thoughts to find that my brother had returned to the living room, acting his like his usual self, despite hearing some pretty depressing news. That made me think of some particularly sad thoughts about Papyrus's mental state. I sighed, grabbed some monster beer from a hidden spot in the fridge we supposedly shared (it was his, though he always kept some space), and joined everybody just as ___ finished up a rant about the voice differences in Fullmetal alchemist.

* * *

I woke up with my skull feeling like it was about to burst. Another thing I always seemed to forget was the fact that monsters have the opposite effect from their beer then humans do: instead of being drunker longer, we burn through it quicker, and it's hard to get full-out drunk. So when we actually DO get drunk, hangovers are much worse than ht I've heard.

The window seemed to be open, since I could feel a faint breeze. I teleported to the kitchen before my eyes even opened, then instantly regretted it. Wasn't water good to make you not hate alcohol? I poured some in a glass and imagined a crack appearing in my head from the hangover itself. I gulped it down as soon as it reached the very top of the glass. It did absolutely nothing.

'Welp, the only option left is to go back to sleep,' I thought. Before I left, I decided to refill my glass. Maybe water just takes a while to work? I went for walking back instead of teleporting because I had the idea that maybe traveling through voids worsened headaches. My feet clicked softly on the kitchen tiles as I made my way back to the now-called anime room.

I noticed that ___ was awake, the glow of her ds revealing a slightly-nervous look. A surprise. It took me a minute to see what was wrong with the picture there.

I was angled in a way that I could see past the couch I had thought she was on originally so I could see them. Hanging above the floor, she wasn't floating. The word was hovering.

Because on her back, covered in so many scars and holes that it looked almost light grey instead of the black that peeked out here and there, were two large, beautiful bat wings that fluttered to keep her in place. I (almost) completely forgot the hangover and stared, frozen.

Then I found my "muscles," took a step forward and bumped into a table.

I looked up, wide eyed just in time to see ___'s expression change from slightly confused and slightly-drunk to realized and trying-not-to-look-horrified-and-succeeding-more-or-less,-mostly-more. We stared at each other, both not knowing what the fuck to do.

She acted first.

* * *

Within an instant (more or less) you fell back to Earth, hitting the ground hard (at least, to other people). You scrambled to fold your wings back underneath your shirt where they usually lived almost just about 24/7 while getting up and beginning to speed-walk, and bumped past a very confused and alarmed Sans. Wow, he seemed confused and alarmed around you a lot, didn't he? Well, thank god he set down the glass of water, or else you'd have a wet shirt along with everything else. You continued speed-walking into the kitchen, moving quickly so the despair of what the skeleton saw couldn't hit you full force just yet.

No one wanted to see a random lady with wings get as close to an emotional breakdown as someone could without breaking the golden emotion rule: don't.

Without a moment of hesitation (yeah, NOW INSTEAD OF BEFORE. THANKS A FRICKEN BUNCH, BRAIN!), you snatched up your Halloween cookie tin and continued your journey. You shoved the tin under your arm and grabbed Sans by the shoulders, making him even more scared. You asked the big question in your mind at the moment. "What's your address?"

He mumbled out a stuttered reply. You nodded and speed-walked to the door. Then you stopped. "Sometimes I watched you walk down the mountain before everything Reset. One second, a bunch of excited monsters, the next, poof." You stated clearly without turning around. "You can remember them, can't you? That means you've gotten good at making sure that NOBODY KNOWS about those Resets." Then you turned the knob and ran outside, remembering his address to find your way back home.

You didn't know they lived so close to you.

Based off of what just happened, you hoped that that would change soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The reasons of not posting last week is my dad fucking around with the wifi, blocking everyone out including him, and having someone come over monday to unblock us. That and homework. Plus a bunch of games I just bought. And laziness. Blame them, not me.
> 
> So yeah, winged reader is real now. Don't judge my motives, the storyboard explains it all. It's also long as shit, even though I'm going through it faster than my "master" writing skillz hoped. 
> 
> Also, even though it wasn't planned whatsoever, reader slightly revealed her first emotion unknowingly! This calls for a party! *clap clap* . . . WHERE'S THE CONFETTI CANNON!!!


	17. I am a wasted life, so

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Skype. Lots of Skype. Being pissed off gets pretty darn close to beating lack of emotion. Also demise is set, along with a previous really boring and weird ship/filler.

Sans-ational: good evening Dracula

You glanced at your Skype (which was slowly growing with monster buddies) and eventually gave a small sigh. After the slight shock blew away as fast as two days could (surprisingly short to you), he decided to take it the funny way (of course), and began blowing up your account with bat puns. It's a good thing you were back to normal after what happened, or else you might've gotten mildly close to laughing.

It was a week since the incident, and you were getting kind of tired of the constant puns. The idea of smiling and laughing had become foreign to you. You shook your head and slumped into your chair as a small wave of panic and worry passed through your body. God, it was tiring and tedious to be so shut down, it took concentration and sometimes (rarely) straining to hide your life, and it took a toll on your mental state when you finally realised you couldn't bring yourself to cry or even smile as far away from the social world, whether online or in real life, as you could. It was like you wanted to, and sometimes you enjoyed the feeling of happiness, but you were forced to draw a line at expressing it. You looked up as the thoughts more or less left and saw another message.

Sans: you ok?

You somehow got yourself to answer the message. Can't have anybody worry.

You: course I'm okay. Why?

Sans: no reason  
Sans: you just seem off is all. Probably nothing.  
Sans: heh, maybe I'm just going batty!

Okay, now you knew he was worried. Maybe you seemed more . . . "You" than you thought, and he noticed when you stopped. Anyway, even he shouldn't use a bat joke THAT bad.

You: That . . . was horrible. I'm judging your selection of jokes now.  
Sans: you shouldn't cause you know I'm winging it :D  
You: I'm slowly beginning to hate you because of these, you know.  
You: in fact, I won't go to your party!

There's another fucking "no" to add to the list.

Sans: well fangs a lot  
Sans: seriously tho? If I take back the puns, will you go?  
You: I've told you many times my response.

Just as quick as the puns came, so did a really stupid proposition he thought up. He thought you could go to an upcoming Halloween party (yes, it's that time of life) dressed as yourself. You couldn't believe everybody sometimes. You knew as a fact that you'd flutter, or jump and keep flying, or something of the sort. People like you couldn't trust yourself. You'd fail, everyone would know, and then . . . You couldn't think of how bad you would end up. 

Of course Sansy here thought it'd be gr8 m8 to show everyone. That'd you should let your uniqueness shine. That you should eventually show ACTUAL PEOPLE what you were. Truthfully, he never said that, but five fucking days of inviting to go to this stupid fucking party with your stupid shitty hole-filled poor fucking excuse of wings showing to the delusionally happy tattletale monsters gave you a slight hint.

Sans: there'll be a bar and everything, Mr.Trashbag's hosting it.  
You: for the love of god  
You: why can't you shut up and take a hint after a million "no's"  
Sans: why can't you just give up and come over?

You couldn't help yourself from wanting to punch your laptop, and somehow stop any frustrated tears from slipping out like when you were really young. Without a change of expression, you grabbed a piece of paper and stabbed it until the pencil you were using lost its lead. Then you ripped it to shreds. Rinse and repeat a couple times, and you were ready to answer. You had a plan.

You: fucking fine. But I decide how its shown.  
Sans: of course, its a costume party  
You: AND Grillby and Carrie have to come.  
Sans: you mean the girl you were talking about during the interrogation?  
You: yup. You just get Grillby, and its a deal. But don't tell him what I'm doing.  
Sans: you got a deal.

You leaned back a seat and began thinking about how badly you had fucked yourself up until your skype notified you again. It was Alphys this time, sending you a chapter of her fanfic. In your opinion, this type of "job" (you hadn't spoken about payment, but naturally and mentally decided it was free) was awesome.

You jotted a few notes down on two different pieces of paper, one for your plan, one for the fanfiction, and set to work on the latter one. You'd talk to Carrie later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello mellow! I'm alive! What a surprise!
> 
> Sorry, updating once a week was truely a big bust for me, with it feeling like homework, and constantly not doing as much, as good, or as long as I think I could. Some things cause me to get a huge lack of motivation. And it always seems like the first paragraph is the hardest to get through. Plus writer's block, an unhealthy obsession to Youtube, and my newfound love of Yuri!!! on Ice (the real Carrie says I'm the most to Yurio, and I can agree to her) helped me ignore it for as long as I could.
> 
> P.s. I really wanted to post New Years, but I didn't have it ready. I'm not going to promise these chapters will become longer or better, but I will try.


	18. This is my goodbye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alphys is adorable not really at all,  
> I talk about porn for some fucking reason,  
> Onion-san kind of makes an appearance not really,  
> You call Carrie,  
> Snas comes over  
> Angst, fluff, drama, and plot ensue.
> 
> . . .
> 
> Oh yeah, and you drink a condiment.

You sighed, sitting back into your seat. Eyes closed, you clasped your hands together and thought about your maturity and your choice of life. 'What the fuck, Alphys?' You mentally thought.

The monster, evidently more confident online than anywhere else, just asked you do illustrate a big sex scene. You cursed yourself for reacting badly. You had done porn pictures before, right? Even though they never went online (or, online with your name on it), you still had drawn it. Of course, even you couldn't stop a red face from being there whenever you so much as though about it. Whoop, there it is (no singing pun intended there). There were just some things someone couldn't hide and wow you mentally rambled when shit like this came into your life.

But you had drawn them. blushing mess included. But this . . . what the fuck. Did she KNOW a tentacle monster or something? It was obvious she watched more than one hentai above the limit in her life. In fact, you were told by Undyne that you briefly woke up during the sleepover. Paps was up in his bed, and Undyne had immediately began shoving as much hentai as the dvd could handle the second his door closed. You got to watch a few for the first time.

Your current face drained a bit when you realized everyone had probably seen you blush at the tentacles.

Then your thoughts were interrupted by an idea. You switched over to the skype member and clicked "call" on a completely different section. A few moments later, a groggy face appeared. "Carrie." You mumbled out a greeting.

The brown-haired lady glared back. "___, 'sup?" She rubbed her eyes slightly. "So what is it? I don't need negative a hundred hours of sleep a day like you do."

"Want to do some friendship bonding and go to a Halloween party with me?"

She gave you a look and yawned. "This is a plan to get me and Grillby together, right?"

"Shit. How'd you know?"

"He mentioned it to me along with some very vague details about an interrogation. Did you actually threaten to throw him in a pond?" You paused, but nodded in the end. "'Kay then. Why not?" Carrie gave you a tired smile.

"Wear something sexy."

"Turtleneck and socks with sandals, got it. Now let me sleep." And with that, she ended the call. After that, you drew (not the porn thing) for half an hour before yet another person pinged you at like three a.m. you switched over to the comment. It was Sans again.

Sans: u up?  
___: yessir.  
Sans: can i  
Sans: shit  
Sans: can i come over for a second  
Sans: just a bit rattled up over here.

Well, you weren't tired anymore (You had just woken up from sleep day, after all) and you were pretty bored . . .

___: want me to make something while you wait by the door for half an hour to pretend walking over here  
___: do not take that literally.

You heard a muffled, "too late." From the other side. You open the door to see a tired Snas with circles somehow under his eyes and tears slightly forming. He wasn't wearing his jacket, and instead had on a white t-shirt. "Heh, nice to sleep ya, ___"

" . . . were you seriously waiting there for half an hour?"

"Maybe fifteen minutes at the most."

"Close enough. C'mon in." You opened the door wider, and when the skelly was reluctant, you grabbed his arm and practically threw him in. He landed on the couch with a poof. "Want something warm? Microwaves are alive for a reason."

"Nah, how about ketchup? Not heated, of course."

You grabbed two bottles of condiments and went over to hand Sans one. When he raised a non-existent eyebrow, you looked away and mumbled, "hey, you get one, so do I," before taking a gulp from the bottle of mustard. There was silence between the two, and then he started cracking up. 

"Oh my god," he murmured between chuckles. "You are the best." You let him laugh for a bit. Then you realised you simply can't not ask him.

You sat in silence for a bit before looking over. "Nightmare, right?"

He took a swig from his condiment. "That obvious?"

"You said you were rattled, you look like shit, you almost cried, and you're up at like 3 in the morning. Plus, you're kind of shaking."

He looked down at his hands and laughed bitterly when he saw you were right. When he looked up, his eyes were lacking the white pupil-like dots. "It was a kid." he murmured. "I don't wanna say much about it, but it was a kid. They . . . they ruined me. On purpose. More than once. I hate that kid. They've done horrible things and tried to place the blame on someone I know. They're my nightmares. And they don't even have a body! . . ." He trailed off, and I saw glowing blue tears fall down his cheekbones. He curled his hands into fists. "And in the end i-it doesn't even matter, 'cause it-it . . ."

You suddenly leaned over and hugged him. You felt him stiffen, but eventually he broke down and began to sob into your t-shirt. You didn't even care. For once . . .

For once you wished you could openly care.

And yet now you were gone. You didn't feel empathy. Slightly sad, but then . . . nothing. 

You didn't let go. "I've had my fair share of nightmares too. Can't sleep anymore, so I stretch out my sleep time to almost nothing so I don't have to deal with it." you replied to the silence.

"Is that why?" You heard a skelly rumble. "Well, I've told you little to nothing about my nightmares, so why don't-"

"My brother." You interrupt him. It hurt to think about it even now. You paused. " . . . I-I've been through shit too, heh. It's just . . . my little brother. So cute. The best. I . . . he . . ." You grip Sans's shirt tightly, not able to put your guilty thoughts into words. "I . . . You guys should meet him. Someday, I mean. He's just . . . done shit to me. Not on purpose, he's amazing, don't get me wrong, but . . . yeah . . ." 

And then you stop.

. . .

The next thing you know you're waving goodbye to Sans. He gave you a worried glance, but turned and vanished.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, the "longer, better" idea certainly went down the drain, didn't it? But I got really sick (REALLY SICK) and missed school today, so why not randomly post today? Also irl Carrie reads this and has only seen enough Undertale to know that Flowey is a prick and some of the skelebros. She doesn't even know Grillby. Flowey's her favorite.
> 
> Also, plot twist: I have destroyed Papyrus's cinnibun mind by having him like overhear the hentai while he's sleeping, Sans kills Undyne and has to deal with Paps, and maybe kills reader when she "accidentally" sends Papyrus a porn picture for no reason.


	19. I never wanted fame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plot and descriptive very hurt.  
> I hate my readers (but I lurve them too I swear)  
> Everybody in this fic hates her.  
> Also a bit of descriptive gore. I put the gore in *(these)* for the squeamish fellows

Sooner or later in the midst of work/school and bullying, both of which were fucking TIRING and increasingly ANNOYING, you remembered you were supposed to make a bat Halloween costume that was unique or something. So far the personal best decision you had made was spray-painting your wings so they didn't look like battered pieces of shit.

At the moment, however, you didn't give two shits, as it was fucking Saturday.

You closed your door gently behind you before exploding into a fit of coughs. Your hand got coveree in dark, grainy blood in the process. Your legs trembled underneath you. Sans didn't save you this time. Cameron, bowler hat guy, finally was able to get revenge. He brought a blowtorch with him. He basically went fullout "1000 degree knife against ___" shit on you. You curled up on the ground and shivered. You knew you were dying.

Arrow, your kitty padded over and plopped against your battered body. You reached out to pet him. You saw him flinch away for a second, but yhen he relaxed. You rubbed his rabbit-like fur affectionately. He purred, reached over, and kneaded your cheek slightly. You thought about your friends. You thought about them a lot. You said they would move on easily, that they didn't care. You knew you were lying. You thought about the monsters. You thought about Alphys's fanfiction. About Sans's problems. 

It filled you with empty hope.

You sighed at life and inched away from the not-so-angry kitty (right now), and eventually struggled onto your couch. You coughed out a bit of blood. Then you let it begin as usual.

The healing process was taxing on you. Maybe not to other monsters, but it was to you. You knew why. You leaned back and closed your eyes as the weak and jagged strands of magic moved and *(covered your half-cauterised stomach dripping with hot acid where he pressed and held the red knife, your leg, severed down hotdog-style with the smooth cut gushing grainy blood, the hole in your cheek, the third-degree burns, and the multiple stab wounds all leaking what was left in your veins.)* covered your fatal injuries.

You didn't know what to do with your wings. The right one was was broken and covered in holes, yes, but the other one . . .

He had cut the left one completely off. You took the slowly cooling wing, leaned forward with a painful hiss (that scared your cats), and held it in place. It ended up working, the magic in your color wrapping around the two limbs and dissipating when they had become one again. It was a bit crooked, but worked more or less okay when you strained to fold them again. Then the magic left, and you knew that you got your weekly dose of scars. Your magic was too weak, even weaker than before, to completely heal the skin. You were so tired, first from the injuries, then from the healing. You . . . Y ou . . . .

You . . . bl ac k o u t. . . .

* * *

"He's so cute!"

You laughed, along with your child-well, teenhood friend, and gushed secretly on the porch as your 4-year-old brother continued to play in the yard. He wasn't doing much, simply running and flying (hovering) wherever he wished and giggling like a maniac while you guys did homework. But you swore that he was the cutest thing that the sky-people above had created. You mean, everyone kinda fell in love the second they saw his little purple wings and stubby little bat ears. And if that didn't please people, you had yet to see him frown or fail to make people happy with him. 

You heard a laugh and looked over to see your mom and dad sitting inside, being the weird and stupid couple they were, looking at old pictures. Your mom flashed her sharp teeth as she laughed at one that was obviously of your dad, as he grinned sheepishly and blushed. You looked back at your brother and smiled wide. He had gotten Mom's soul, you could tell. Even if she was a monster, you could tell she would've been a purple. And his was a pretty pale lavender. You, you got your dad's. 

And you loved it all. You loved your family. You even thought about asking Frisk over, the two kids hadn't met yet and Frisk was only a year older . . . You twirled your long curly hair without even knowing until it made a knot and you had to rip it out. Habits.

You suddenly closed your book and got up, earning a glance from the friend. You walked up to your sibling, but before you could reach him, everything merged until another scene appeared. You were buckled into a seat, your brother, older now, stared out the car window with wide eyes . . .

. . . You breathe in suddenly, jolting awake and regretting it as the recent memory of almost dying (again) physically reminded you of itself. You heard someone sigh in relief. "Good. I thought you were fallen down or something for a second, nerd!"

"Geek, not . . . not nerd" you mutter automatically before realising and looking up. Fish lady stared back. "When-when did you get . . . When did you get in my . . ."

"You weren't answering your phone, so I came over! But when I got here, there was blood, and your door was open . . . And then I saw you lying face-first in a puddle of whatever that is and . . . " you tuned her out.

You scrambled up, your body screaming in protest, and looked at where you fainted. You (not your bodyj) almost screamed at the sight. You heard a faint, "hey, it's not on you! I wonder why not." but it was distant, too distant, and you didn't think it would be this early before . . . On the ground, the puddle Undyne described was something looking like a black film.

"U-Undyne, could-could you do m-me a favor and-and leave . . ?" You stuttered quickly, and you knew she was used to Alphys speaking so she understood you. 

She hesitated before shaking her head. "No way punk, and you'd bett-OW! What the fuck-" she shouted as you placed a hand on her arm and, with an aching body, threw her out without a word. You almost slammed the door behind you before sliding down and curling up into a ball. You saw the cats hiding in the kitchen, far away from the puddle. And you saw the slightly black footsteps leading up to the door where you lay. You remembered something, and raised a tired hand to touch your cheek. You felt a liquid spill around your fingers and realised you were crying. 

You tried to get rid of what was happening by stumbling over to your laptop to doodle bat costumes. Formal or half-naked? Tough decisions over here. Just forget it and it'll hopefully go away . . .

On the other side of the door, Undyne was looking at her arm with a wide eye and an eyepatch. The spot where you placed you touched her still hurt just as bad, and she could see why. The film was there, in the shape of a hand. Your hand. She walked back to her car and hastily called Alphy. Her gf could hear the worry that hung over Undyne's words, subtle as it was, and said to meet her at the lab immediately.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry.  
> But I wrote it.  
> So please forgive me at how ooc I've written Undy . . .


	20. Cause when we are dead, it's all the same

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I don't know how to write drunk people lol  
> Also you're welcome for the cliffhanger.  
> And someone smiles.

You sighed as you hung up. Who would fire someone on Halloween for "not being interactive enough, goofing off, annoying the other workers," and SOMEHOW they found out you hang out with monsters, so of course you were nothing to them. No matter what, you lost your job at the hospital. It didn't matter. At leastou still had your jobs with the monsters.

You finished the make-up, half wishing you were better at it but mostly happy you weren't. You tugged your hair into a poofy high ponytail, the shorter hair still covering your right eye (wow that detail was so long ago I forgot), and texted Sans yet again.

___: are you 100% sure it's adult only?  
Sansational: oh my god  
Sansational: you have to be joking by now  
Sansational: for the last time, it's a Mettaton party  
Sansational: which means therell be like the biggest bar youve ever seen  
Sansational: and rooms are free for the night if a sock is on the doorknob  
Sansational: any kid here would be scarred for life  
Sansational: no fibula

Sans: anyway im outside your door

You went over and opened it. Yup, Sans was there. He looked mostly the same, except his gym shorts had orange stripes instead of white, his slippers were orange with jack-o-lanterns instead of pink poofs, and he wore a white hoodie that read ERROR 404: COSTUME NOT FOUND. His usual smile faltered a bit when he saw you, and his face went a bit blue.

You wore a black halter top splattered with paint of all colors along with ripped black skinny jeans that reached to your ankles. A silver choker was wrapped around your neck, and beads hung off it in strings. Your beanie was off, revealing two black bat ears that twitched slightly from time to time. You traded glasses for piercing white-silver contacts. You had added black lace sleeves, the same lace that adorned your chest from halter to choker. Just to be safe, you tinted your body a darker color where the lace touched your skin (with magic btw). Finally, your wings were wide and open, painted a shade of black to hide the scars, and you had added small colorful swirls onto almost every inch of them. He didn't see the patch of lighter skin on your cheek were the skin was taken off "Are you ready to go?"

One quick teleport later and you saw Sans was true to his texts.

* * *

You were okay with this.

You were also a little drunk.

That means you knew you probably weren't gonna remember the party the next morning. You sat by the bar, holding a cup so tightly your knuckles were white, and keeping a lazy eye on the monsters on the dance floor. You never were a dancer, not even before.

"Heeey, kittykittykitty!" You called the bartender, a cat monster with every regret and no shits to give.

He rolled his eyes. "For the last time, just call me Burgerpants! . . that's what everyone calls me."

"Nununu. Your-you don't wanna be calledat." You slurred. "You mezzedup once an ya hateit. An no what? M prolly not okay enough ta say this, but you seem lika Mike ta me. I dunno, erryonesa cat to me too. C-could I havenother drink?"

His annoyed expression softened, and he gave you a weary smile before shaking his head. "Nah. Sorry sweetheart, but I'd rather not be the one to pay for your funeral." You sighed knowingly, pretty sure you looked like that one sad child that didn't get a pony for Christmas like they wanted and stopped believing in Santa. Mike shrugged his shoulders and walked away to tend to the less drunk guys. 

You heard arguing. You looked back over and saw Undyne and a human practically screaming at each other, a scared Alphys being squeezed like a stuffed animal. You didn't like arguing. You pushed yourself up from the bar and stumbled over to the fight. Without even attempting to listen to the fight, you stepped in between of the two and held up your hands. "Shaddup, both of you." You turned to the drunk fish first. "Undy, pleaz unhand your bae befor ya kill er." She paused or a second, looking a little startled, before settibg a slightly-purple lizard lady onto the ground. "Now, what's th problem?"

You settled the argument quickly when you found out the guy, who was probably extremely close to an alcohol-relate death like you, had kissed Alphys. Simple mistake, plus Alphys was adorable so who wouldn't? You wrote him a mostly chicken-scratch letter in the case that he forgot (meaning you knew he would), and offered a round of drinks for them all.

You looked behind you on your walk back to Mike and saw Papyrus dancing to the music. Completely off-beat. Sober. Your straight face flickered, the quickest smile, and the aura around your drunken self seemed to strengthen by 100%.

And then you turned back around and almost ran into a half-drunk Sans. You shrieked and jumped probably ten feet up into the air."Saaassssss! Whawazat for?" He looked surprised. You almost giggled. "I wan an answer, bone boy!" You felt a small breeze, but ignored it.

"Um . . . ___?" He asked quietly. "Look down." You obeyed and gasped quietly. 

Remember how you said you jumped up ten feet? 

You were still ten feet in the air. 

Your wings fluttered behind you, and small bits of paint cracked off and fluttered onto the floor. You were flying an a large room filled with half-drunk monsters that would definitely remember this. In other words, you were fucked.

You fell to the ground with a thud, landing on your feet and stumbling a few paces before falling down. You looked down again. A familiar black film was spreading from where you landed, moving slowly like water in slowmotion. You almost screamed at the sight. Scratch that, you tried to scream, but all that came out was a dry hiss. You scrambled to your feet, bringing your wings close to your body as of to hide yourself from everybody. "Shishishishishit." You mumbled in a shaky whisper.

And then you bolted.

Running blindly, you held your wings around you like a shawl, shoving past people as you sprinted past to who knows where. They saw you fly. They saw the black . . . They saw everything. Rumor spreads like lightning. They knew you were this . . . You were screwed. You were so very screwed. You were going to die. You didn't want to die like this. 

You smacked hard into someone, causing you to wince and recoil before continuing on your panicky way. A hand caught your arm before you could do so.

You turned and stared into the small blue eyes of a pale, freckled face, messy black hair acting as a frame to the lady. She was wearing a baggy Steven Universe sweatshirt. She grinned. Obviously she was drunker than you, but that never stopped her.

"Th' fuck ya runnng frm, bitch?"

As if your day could get worse from here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Should I draw reader in this outfit? I suck at drawing, but its spring break and I would anyway.


	21. HIATUS

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> HIATUS

Ok, so, I do have a storyline planned out (to a point), and I know exactly what is going to happen in the next chapter. And school can't be an excuse anymore bc its summer vacation. But whenever I bring up this story in hopes to write another chapter, I end up looking at my tablet for an hour before putting it away. Please understand this lack of creativity and overexaggerated writers block.

**Author's Note:**

> I have a tumblr: http://nyanny-cat.tumblr.com
> 
> So
> 
> Yeah.


End file.
